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at the knees, arms wide as I try to achieve stability in the barrage of the plane's wash and concentrate on my position. My rapid acceleration is felt mostly through my nose as it is a little difficult to breath with the air being forced up my nostrils but before long I reach a comfortable rate.
A long, long way below I see the earth, a tapestry of fields, small buildings visible even from up here at height.

Clear of the plane and stable, I see the others who left before me. I now have about one minute of freefall before I have to pull the ripcord which opens the chute which will eventually (I hope) softly bring me to terra firma once more.
Time to have some fun; time to 'fly without wings'.
Using my stomach as the axis I spin left and right, then into the sitting position and I feel myself speed up. Then I tumble, doing cartwheels and basically just fooling around, thoroughly enjoying the experience of freefall, all the while keeping a close eye on my altimeter as it drops through 10,000, then 9, then 8. The ground below is getting visibly closer. 2500 is the recommended height at which the cord must be pulled but I leave it a few more seconds until 2000.
Reaching round behind, I feel the bottom of the pack and grab the 'hackysack' (ripcord). I rip it out of the pocket and throw it with force into the wind - and wait. A few seconds of nothing and then - whallop! as the canopy opens with a thrump. I immediately look up to check everything's as it should be. Mild relief flows as the canopy is in perfect shape. Next I adjust myself in the straps (believe me, there is NOTHING worse than getting a testicle caught between the strap and one's pelvis) and settle in for the most calming float down to earth. The view from here is awe-inspiring as I can see for miles, from the mountains to the oceans.
I spot the landing zone, marked with a big 'X'. Once I've got my bearing, I begin to steer the chute this way and that by pulling on the toggles; hard and I swing out like a shuttlecock, this way and that. Still regularly checking the altimeter, I see I'm at about 500 feet and begin my final approach to the landing zone. 450, 400, 350, 300, 250. By this stage, the altimeter is forgotten as I rely on my eye and experience to guide myself in.
At about 150 feet I drift past the 'X' and pull hard on the left toggle executing what is referred to as a 'hook turn', which if done incorrectly, can result in serious injury or even death. But I've done this before and know how. I'm swung out almost horizontally as I drop quickly and increase my airspeed to about 75 mph as I race towards the ground. Timed perfectly I level out about 2 feet from the ground and bend my knees to lift my feet slightly. Then I feather the toggles, adjusting my landing to skim my feet along the grass.
When eventually after a few seconds, I slow down, I run along the ground and let go of the toggles as I touch the earth. I'm down again. I feel elated. I have to do this again - and again - and again, it's addictive this 'flying without wings'.

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